Turning
©December 12th, 2018
By Vijaya Sundaram
The hum of the refrigerator,
The crunching of food by dog,
The clicking of fingers on keyboard,
And the thrum of my blood –
These form the sonic landscape
In which my night unfolds.
The day was long, and full,
And entirely practical,
And the evening was loud with song,
Magic stories flowed, and lights
Followed them on stage,
And there was goodwill,
While waiting for entrances
And scattered exits,
With conversations and friendships
Blooming like night-flowers
In unexpected stairwells and hallways.
A fingernail moon hangs forlorn
Somewhere in n a night sky
Unfettered by clouds, and perhaps,
Just once, for at least one night,
All is well with the world.
The earth turns in her sleep.
I shall follow suit.
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